She laughed heartily at my dismay. ‘You need not be in such a terrible hurry, Hilda. I think you may give yourself a few minutes’ grace. But it really does turn the street into such a slaughter-house, that everybody makes a point of going as far from home as possible.’ ‘Where is Ange?’ ‘She has gone up to see Mère Fromard, whose husband is worse this morning, and she promised to join us on the hill on her way back.’ ‘And your papa?’ ‘I left him in the _salle_. He is just going to start by the diligence for Artois. He has some business to transact at Rille to-day, with his friend Mr. Felton.’ ‘Excuse me for a moment then, Tessie. I want to speak to him before he goes.’ I flew downstairs as I spoke, and came upon Mr. Lovett in the _salle_, carefully brushing his clerical hat before putting it on. I had a motive for my haste. As we postpone visiting the dentist day after day, and then, in a sudden fit of courage, rush off without deliberation, and have our tooth extracted before we have had time to repent, so had I delayed speaking to my trustee on a matter of importance, and knew that unless I took my dilemma, like a bull, by the horns, I should never be brave enough to extricate myself from it. This dilemma was the want of money. I had been in St. Pucelle now for a couple of months, and Mr. Lovett had never mentioned the subject to me. I had gone there on the understanding that fifty pounds of my little income was to be annually refunded me for pocket expenses, and I had arrived there almost penniless, for the necessary outlay connected with the breaking up of my home and travelling to Belgium had absorbed nearly all the ready-money at my disposal. I had thrown out more than one hint, in the presence of Mr. Lovett, that a few francs would be acceptable to me, but they had had no effect, and I was now really in need of some trifles for my toilet. Moreover, Ange would complete her eighteenth year in a week from that time, and I greatly desired to make her a little present on the occasion. So I felt as desperate as a young woman can do who has no clean tuckers to put into her dresses, and has just discovered an alarming hole in the finger of her best pair of kid gloves. Mr. Lovett looked up as I entered the _salle_, and saluted me with his bland, beautiful smile. ‘Well, my dear Hilda, have you any commands for me in Rille? I am compelled to go there to-day, to transact some business with my good friend Mr. Felton; but I hope you will be able to make yourself very happy meanwhile, with your own occupations and the dear children’s society.’ ‘Oh yes, Mr. Lovett; we shall be happy enough. We are just going to take our needlework to the brow of the hill, and stay there till all the pigs are killed.’ ‘A very wise decision,’ he said, laughing softly, as he smoothed round the nap of his hat.